hand of doom

I really need to become a prophet of the Apocalypse.

I have so much quality material to spin these days. First, you've got good old Katrina, and the "city where the damned call home" completely underwater. Sodom and Gomorrah, anyone? Second you've got rising gas prices. This one writes itself. Third, a seemingly inept leader who is apparently leading us into chaos and anarchy.

The need for street preachers in Barrow County is mounting, and I believe I can help alleviate this struggle. I'll stand on the street corners, Bible in one hand, Jack Chick pamphlets in the other, screaming at passersby. I'll need an accomplice of some sort (Joey) who either pretends to be a cripple and I heal him, or he picks their pockets while they stand around listening to my insane ramblings. I also need someone who has nice handwriting to letter some signboards: THE END IS NEAR, PUT YOUR FAITH IN THE ALMIGHTY, BOW NOT TO FALSE IDOLS, and the like.

I figure I can whip the town into a frenzy within a week. They'll either bend to my every whim, or they'll have my head on a stake at the city limits as a warning to others. So there's a fifty-fifty chance of success. I'm cool with that.

Ludicrous plans aside, life's been alright. Class is boring as hell, but at least I'm not stuck there eight hours a day like I was in high school.

Also, much hotter chicks. Too bad I have no confidence whatsoever when it comes to the opposite sex. That would really come in handy in situations like this.

In Music Appreciation, we're going through simple stuff like intervals, scales, and harmony. I'm falling asleep through most of it, because I'm apparently the only one who took Band in fifth grade. On the plus side, I can read music again. I of course learned how to in Band, but reading music is one of those skills you have to keep somewhat fresh or you lose it. While the teacher is explaining accidentals and arpeggios, I'm going through the (pitiful) book reading the few scores provided. So far, it's helping me play guitar better and write better progressions.

I acquired the first 350(!) issues of MAD magazine. I now am in full cognizannce of exactly where my sense of humor came from. Al Jaffee, Dave Berg, Antonio Prohias, Mort Drucker, Duck Edwing, and Sergio Aragones are who you have to thank for my weird, warped, wonderful funny bone.

I need to find a source for Cracked magazine now. I always liked Cracked a little better than MAD, because it seemed aimed at a younger audience, and it had more of a small-town feel versus MAD's New York City bias. Not to say MAD was horrible or anything, just that as a kid, Cracked appealed more to me. It's going to be a lot harder to find, though, becasue the print run was so much smaller in comparison. MAD was and always has been a nationwide magazine, whereas Cracked was more a Southeast/Midwest magazine.

Enough for now. Go visit LuchaWiki and REPENT, SINNER!